Her Forever Cowboy

Home > Other > Her Forever Cowboy > Page 16
Her Forever Cowboy Page 16

by Debra Salonen


  Will, on the other hand, seemed to find the gossip amusing. Anne admired the way he handled their guests' good-natured questions and comments, anything from "Are you buying her flowers, Will? Women love flowers," to "Cinderella needs a special carriage, Will, not a giant yellow pumpkin like your truck."

  Georgi, spokesperson for the Silver Leg-a-C's--a female square-dancing troupe from Bakersfield--had warned Anne, "I'd wear steel-toed slippers if I were you, honey. Who knows if bull riders can dance?"

  Anne pushed away from the mirror and stood up, her skirt swirling provocatively around her thighs. A pair of high-heeled sandals waited beside the bed. The shoes belonged to Linda. Anne would have preferred to wear pumps and hose, but Zoey had insisted Anne go barelegged to display her Deliriously Delicious pink toenails, courtesy of Zoey's nail polish.

  "Pretty special toes, wouldn't you say?" Anne asked, wiggling the colorful digits. While the pedicure might lack a professional edge, the hour of mother-daughter giggles this afternoon more than made up for any smudges.

  Anne dropped a tube of lipstick in her purse--another loan from Linda--walked to the bed and slipped her feet into the sparkly heels.

  She felt a bit wobbly. Although pumps were part of the dress code of her normal job, she'd worn nothing but tennis shoes or flat sandals since she'd been at the Silver Rose. "So? Do you like it?"

  Zoey rose to her knees, hands pressed together as if in prayer. "Mommy, you are f.l.a.w.l.e.s.s."

  Anne walked to the bed and pulled Zoey into her arms. "And you are p.u.r.f.e.c.t."

  Zoey shook her head. "No fair trying to trick me. That's not how you spell perfect and you know it."

  Anne cupped Zoey's chin. "Old habits. Sorry. I should have known you were too smart to fall for it. But we've really been lax about your studies this summer."

  Zoey made a face and tried to twist away, but Anne turned her daughter's face toward the light. Was she a tad flushed or sun-burned? "Did you wear your hat during your riding lesson, today, hon?"

  Zoey brushed Anne's hand away and flopped onto her back. She frowned at the ceiling. "Of course. Will says a smart rider always prepares for the worst. In summer, the sun can give you heat prostitution."

  Anne pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. At dinner, two of the guests had been talking about Nevada's whorehouses of old. Anne had noticed her daughter listening with rapt attention.

  "I'm glad Will stresses safety," Anne said. "But you look tired. Promise you'll go to bed for Joy without any guff?"

  "Yes." The word held a measure of attitude, but Anne let it go. Now, wasn't the time to press the issue. Hopefully, once all the hoopla subsided, Zoey would settle down.

  "Good. Then I won't have to blister your bottom." The very old and empty caveat was a favorite of Esther's--and it had held as much threat with Anne as it did with Zoey.

  Her daughter giggled imprudently and scrambled off the bed. "I gotta go see if Will brought you flowers. On TV, a date always brings flowers."

  "This isn't a date." The disclaimer fell on empty space.

  Who am I kidding?

  She fetched her mother's gossamer shawl from the closet. An awkwardness had developed between her and Will that told Anne they both knew this was more than a date.

  She was attracted to him beyond reason. She wanted to rush downstairs on Zoey's heels to see if he was gorgeous as she knew he'd be. Giving into those whims sounded both foolish and dangerous, and totally not Anne.

  She took a deep breath and counted to five, wiling her heart rate to return to normal. After tucking her cell phone into her purse, she picked up her key and started downstairs. The murmur of voices told her their departure had drawn a crowd.

  As she descended into sight of the dozen or so people crowded into the foyer, a hush fell, followed by a flurry of whispers.

  "Oh, my. She's so beautiful."

  "Wouldn't Esther be proud?"

  Anne felt the sudden prick of tears. If only her mother were here. Esther would have loved every minute. Straightening her shoulders, Anne put on a fake smile then plunged ahead, calling on her years of experience working with the public to accept the kind praise and good wishes with grace. She shook hands and returned hugs.

  She was less than half way across the foyer when a deep cough parted the throng. Her gaze fell on the most handsome cowboy she had ever seen. His charcoal-gray suit was a western cut that looked made for him. The collar of his pristine white shirt was open and he wasn't wearing a tie.

  "Wow, Will," she said, stepping closer. "Look at you."

  His boots were glossy, hair recently trimmed. His friendly grin showcased the smooth line of his freshly shaven jaw. The tanned crinkles at the corners of his eyes were evidence of his self-deprecating good humor. "Didn't expect me to clean up quite so good, huh?"

  "No. I mean, yes. I..."

  Everyone laughed at her flustered answer.

  He stepped to her side and offered his elbow. "Shall we go, my dear?"

  "He called her a dear," Zoey said with a giggle.

  Will looked at Zoey, who was standing beside Joy, and winked. "Good observation, Miss Z. Have fun with Joy." He wrapped his fingers around Anne's and nodded at the others. "Good night, y'all."

  Anne felt the congregation watch as they walked to the Forerunner. "I just love an audience, don't you?" she said grateful for his support...and warmth. Had the night turned cold or was it nerves?

  "This is a piece of cake," he told her. "You should try landing face first in front of ten thousand people. Then you're expected to get up and wave like you're not hurt, pissed off and feeling flatter than a cow pie."

  His scent--not cologne, but something else enticing--made her lean closer and sniff. "New soap?"

  "It's herbal. I found it at the grocery store when I went to buy rock salt for the ice-cream maker. Too strong?"

  "No. Very nice. I like it." I like you.

  He opened the passenger door. Before she could sit down, he leaned over and picked up a clear plastic florist's box. Inside sat a corsage of baby's breath and delicate pink roses.

  "Will, you shouldn't have."

  "I debated over artificial but I liked these better. I didn't bring them in because I knew Zoey would want to smell them."

  She opened the box, drawing the delicate creation to her nose. "That makes you the most thoughtful man I've ever known."

  He shrugged modestly. "Every once in a while I get lucky."

  Anne was glad for the dark, because his innocent phrase made her blush. Getting lucky generally implied spending time in bed together. Did she intend to take this date beyond a kiss good night?

  She considered the question. It could be argued that she was an adult. Single. She had needs. She cared about Will and she trusted him to tell her if there was any reason, medically speaking, that they shouldn't be together. But would such a union be wise? Anne had witnessed firsthand the devastation left behind from a workplace romance at WHC.

  "May I?" he asked, plucking the corsage from its nest.

  Anne dropped her purse on the seat. "Of course."

  Her skin felt hypersensitive as he slid two fingers under the material above her right breast. The whole process couldn't have lasted more than six or seven seconds, but Anne was dizzy from holding her breath.

  "You look absolutely gorgeous, by the way," he said, dropping a soft kiss on the top of her shoulder. "I'll be the envy of every man there."

  He took her elbow and helped her into the seat, then closed the door. Her hands were trembling as she secured her lap belt. Her heart fluttered as wildly as it had the day she walked down the aisle. Was that a good thing or bad? She decided not to over-analyze the night or her feelings. Tonight, she'd try to simply enjoy the evening. She owed that to her mother.

  The drive to town sped by thanks to a couple of upbeat tunes on the radio. Will introduced a couple of possible topics for discussion, but Anne answered with nods and murmurs.

  "Are you nervous?" he asked.

/>   She glanced sideways. "What gave me away? The wringing hands or beads of perspiration on my forehead?" She would have wiped away the moisture but didn't want to risk messing up her artfully tousled waves, the result of two hours at the local beauty parlor.

  His chuckle filled the space between them like a welcome friend. "Relax. I went to the ten-year reunion and it was a big improvement over high school. People weren't hanging out in cliques, ready to stab each other in the back. We're older and our flaws are a lot more obvious."

  "That's easy for you to say. You're the hometown boy done good. You're famous."

  "Not very. Besides, I'd say success is relative. That's another thing you understand when you get a few years on your odometer. Someone like Linda has more to show for her efforts than I do. Making a home for two kids, taking care of her sick mother, getting through a divorce without killing her no-good ex-husband--that's pretty successful in my book."

  Anne was impressed--and surprised--by his words. Like his grandfather, Will kept his opinion to himself unless pressed for it. But his praise sounded heartfelt, and Anne had to admit, Barry would have dismissed Linda in one quick glance. Divorcée. Two kids. He might have agreed to lend her money if she asked, but he'd have run in the opposite direction if she needed emotional succor or a shoulder to cry on.

  The car slowed. Anne leaned forward to scan the crowded parking lot. Linda's SUV was parked near the front door. At least there will be one friendly face in the crowd. Anne had met a few other women at organizational meetings and several more that morning when she dropped off the hay bales the Silver Rose had donated for decorations. But Anne wasn't part of their crowd. She never had been.

  She took a deep breath and collected her nerve as Will got out and walked around the vehicle to open her door. "Watch your step," he said, taking her hand. "Potholes from last winter. We don't want to mess up that Deliriously Delicious pink polish."

  His teasing took her mind off what was coming. "My daughter told you? It was supposed to be our little secret."

  He closed his hand protectively over hers. "I'd like to say I had to torture it out of her, but frankly, Anne, your daughter blabs. Never entrust her with state secrets, okay?"

  "I'll remember that. But the road runs two ways, you know. Zoey and Tressa couldn't wait to tell me about someone named Reba, who apparently is a 'mean little ball-buster.' Fortunately, they hadn't figured out what the term meant."

  Will let out a hoot. "Holy c..., I really do have to watch my mouth. For the record, Riva--short for Arriva Dirtshay--is a red bull with a spotted white face. He's gentle as a lamb outside the arena--I've actually seen kids feed him by hand--but open the chute and he turns on the retro rockets."

  "I assumed as much," she said honestly, but she didn't include how much her initial twinge of jealousy had unnerved her.

  When they resumed walking, he went on to explain, "A lot of bulls do a Jekyll and Hyde number. It's like they understand they're performers hired to put on a show. But you never want to forget that even the gentlest bull in the pen can kill you if you're not paying attention."

  Before Anne could ask for more details, a loud voice pierced the night. "Anne and Will. 'Bout time. Sheesh. I was ready to send out Search and Rescue."

  Linda stood in the doorway, beckoning them to hurry. Back lit by the bright yellow glow from inside the ugly but functional metal-sided hall, she resembled the Statue of Liberty--a flashlight in one hand and clipboard pressed to her chest. "Hurry up, you two. We're doing the program before dinner, remember?"

  "Sorry," Anne said. "My pedicure took longer than I anticipated."

  Linda looked down. "Zoey?"

  Anne nodded.

  Linda slipped her foot out of her shoe and wiggled her toes. "Tressa. Does this mean they're going to be cosmetologists when they grow up?"

  Will shook his head. "Not a chance. They're planning to take over the Silver Rose and convert it into a girl's school where you only have to study for two hours a day and the rest of the time you ride horses."

  Linda rolled her eyes. "Thank goodness A.J. plans to sell it this fall. I don't think the seven dollars in my daughter's piggy bank will get them far."

  Anne felt Will's sharp look and regretted telling Linda about one of A.J.'s more melancholy postcards. He had sounded resigned to making a fresh start somewhere else, like Montana or Wyoming.

  The thought of A.J. selling out broke Anne's heart, which was why she'd brought up the subject with Linda. She couldn't picture a Silver Rose Guest Ranch without A.J. Or vice versa.

  "Come on," Linda said, tugging Anne across the threshold. "I had Pam save us a table."

  Pam? Anne didn't know anyone named Pam. Please don't let it be someone Will dated. She couldn't even think about how relieved she'd been to learn from Joy that her daughter, Judy--Will's old prom date--wasn't coming from Alaska to attend the event.

  Two glasses of wine later, Anne was finally starting to relax. The music seemed to transport everyone to a time when they were more candid, optimistic and outgoing, although high school had been just the opposite for Anne. Her father's death, living with her dour, repressed grandparents in Maine, then moving across the country with her newly remarried mother had left Anne mixed up and angry. She honestly couldn't blame any of these friendly people for not recognizing her. She'd been a mouse hiding in the library or scurrying to class, doing her best to avoid being caught in a social situation.

  Will handled every introduction with finesse. He seemed to remember everybody's name even without benefit of name tags. "This is Anne Fraser," he said time and again. "You might not remember her because she was a year behind us in school. Anne is Esther's daughter, and we're running the Silver Rose this summer for Gramps."

  It struck her as curious that he let people draw their own conclusion about their living arrangements. He also seemed determined to stake a claim, giving no one else a chance to ask her to dance--not that she wanted a different partner. Will was a wonderful dancer. And fun. He kept her too busy laughing to feel self-conscious.

  "You're really good," she said when they returned to their table with fresh drinks. She couldn't believe how fast her wine had disappeared. Will's can of beer, on the other hand, appeared untouched.

  He leaned close and whispered, "I assume you mean dancing."

  His cheek brushed hers, his lips grazed her ear. A swirl of music--the inside kind--pulsed through her. "Of course," she teased. "What else?"

  He stayed in whisper range, planting one hand on the table beside her. "You're flirting with a dangerous man, Anne Fraser. I've just spent several weeks being good, and, believe me, that's a new personal best. Don't tempt me unless you're prepared for the consequences."

  Am I? Tonight would be the perfect opportunity to take what he was offering. The idea had crossed her mind the second she decided to sleep on the couch in the office so Joy could be near Zoey. Tonight might well be Anne's one and only chance for a little adult pleasure. Was that wrong? Possibly. Probably. But at the moment, she really didn't care.

  She put her finger on his nose and let it trail downward, over his lips. "Consequences, huh? Such as?"

  He nipped her finger lightly. "A night of unrepentant passion."

  "Would we need to repent in the morning?"

  "Only if it makes you feel better."

  "How will you feel?"

  "Tired. A good kind of tired," he added with a wink.

  Anne made up her mind. Right or wrong, she wanted him. She needed passion, intimacy, human contact. For months after her divorce she craved not sex, but hugs. Now she wanted concrete proof that she wasn't dried up inside. That she was a woman, desirable and alive. "How much longer do we have to stay here?"

  He pulled back, his eyes questioning. A slow grin spread across his ruggedly handsome face. "Thirty seconds. I just want to tell a couple of people good-bye. Stay put, okay?"

  Anne watched him walk away. She'd met her share of handsome men, but she'd never known one who moved with mor
e command of presence--the kind of self-assurance that had nothing to do with ego and everything to do with experience. He risked life and limb for a dream. Anne had to respect that even if she didn't wholly understand the sport.

  "Are you going?" Linda said, drawing up a chair. "Already? Is something wrong at home?"

  Home. Anne glanced at her watch. She hadn't thought about the Silver Rose in four hours. "Actually, I turned off my ringer while the speaker was talking about by-gone days and forgot to turn it back on. Will you hand me my purse? I'd better check my messages."

  "If Zoey's not the reason you're leaving, then what...?" Linda's question trailed off. "Ohmygosh. You and Will? You're going to...to..."

  "Stargaze," a deep voice provided.

  Linda shot to her feet. "Oh. Hi, Will. Stars, huh? Cool. Very cool. Count a few for me." She swallowed a giggle. "I'm particularly fond of the Missionary constellation, myself. Some call it boring, but I say it all comes down to whom you're stargazing with, if you know what..."

  "Damn," Anne said, turning sharply. Her hand knocked over her plastic glass full of wine.

  Linda grabbed a wad of napkins. "What's wrong?"

  "Joy called an hour ago. She was concerned about Zoey's breathing."

  Linda stopped blotting. "Did you call her back?"

  "I tried. The machine picked up."

  Will didn't ask what to do. He walked to the hatcheck counter and returned a moment later with his Stetson and Anne's shawl. "Let's go home. We'll both feel better if we check this out. She's probably fine, but why take any chances?"

  Anne blinked back tears as she gave Linda a hug. She'd never known a man who put Zoey's health and her own feelings first. She couldn't count all the times that Barry pretended to be asleep while his daughter struggled for each and every breath.

  Perhaps out of habit, or because she didn't trust any man to stick by her, Anne paused at the doorway. "I can drive back alone," she said. "You don't need to miss the rest of the party. If she's sick, I'll be up with her the rest of the night. No time for...um, stargazing."

 

‹ Prev